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Angel,
you were an angel once,
but now you are lost,
and back then, you came to me out of nowhere carrying a cross,
and you came to me with good intentions and great thoughtfulness,
and I knew you a while,
and you talked with great elegance and eloquence,
and we were friends,
and then, suddenly you were gone,
and you disappeared for a year,
and from you I did not hear,
and now in you,
I see a different you,
and you are sad and filled with tears,
and you have fallen out with God,
and there is no happinness in you at all,
oh, love,
what a wonderful thing it is,
and what a terrible thing,
a wrecking ball,
apocryphal,
a tragedy for you,
for no good at all did it do to you,
and now, here you are before me,
with you, still in your emotions,
ruined and devastated from the love which proved so terrible,
and so terribly destructive,
a love that caused you to suffer a fool,
and here I am at the end of it all,
prepared to pick up the pieces,
and to care,
and to put back your angels wings upon you,
and to raise you up once more,
and to place you back in the heavens from whence you did fall.

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Writing and poetry
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